


The Secret Admirer

by LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Dyat love, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Stealth Smooches, this man deserves all the love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife/pseuds/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife
Summary: The 5 times that Anatoly Dyatlov was surprised and the one time he wasn't...-I blame the plot bunnies - they made me do it!Based upon the 2019 'Chernobyl' HBO series and the character therein of Anatoly Dyatlov, played by the most glorious and beautiful Paul Ritter. This is a most humble attempt at a redemption/un-doing of the meanie evil one-dimensional, mustache twirling, spinney chair sitting villain that HBO turned him into!Please heed warnings and tags and notes etc before reading.-Alright Bambinos, please read and enjoy!Kudos and Comments always greatly appreciated.
Relationships: Anatoly Dyatlov/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 4
Collections: The Dyat Love Collection!





	1. The Cleaning Cupboard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NatashaRedFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatashaRedFox/gifts).



> This fic is assuming that Anatoly is not married at this point in time, which is at some point before the disaster occurred. So, he's not cheating on anyone and lives alone. Left up to the reader as to whether he's divorced, separated, widowed etc...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stealth Smooches in a Cleaning Cupboard!

_What the!!??_ He felt his arm being grabbed, being pulled, hauled over. He'd been caught completely off guard and off balance. He was therefore an easy target to be dragged over into the... cleaning cupboard? 

The door was slammed shut. The small space was plunged into inky blackness. He couldn't see a damn thing! But his other senses took over to compensate for the lack of vision. He heard a giggle. Heard breathing. His fast breath and someone else's, their pace matching his, they raced along together. Their breath was that of a predator running, chasing after their scared, fleeing prey, him. He felt hands press onto his chest. He scrabbled backwards, hitting the wall, waving his arms behind him, wildly seeking purchase. He knocked over... something? He heard it smash over to his left. A body pressed tightly up against him. He felt heat where they touched. _God!_ His body responded to their heat in a primal way. His heart pounded, he ran his tongue around his deathly dry mouth. He squeezed his eyes closed. Pointless really, as the room was so dark. He could smell perfume. _A... female??_ He felt their breath on his face. _Mint tea?_

He froze. His breath held as he felt their hands slowly rise along his chest, traveling upwards, never losing contact with him. Their hands paused on his shoulders. He heard her take a deep breath. Then her hands moved, traveling upwards once again. He sucked in a breath as skin met skin. Her hands on his neck. Moving once more, so that they cupped his face.

He felt their breath inches from his lips. Then... they moved. He let out a tiny breath. _No! Please come back!_ He felt soft lips on his left cheek, then they returned to hover momentarily over his lips again, before placing the same butterfly touch onto his right cheek. Beautiful kisses placed delicately on his cheeks, left and right. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to. He was nailed to the spot. Paralysed by whoever this lovely apparition was. He felt their breath return to his centre. Hovering over his mouth. Waiting for... what? _Dammit? What did they want him to do?_ This mystery woman had overwhelmed him completely. Taking him entirely by surprise. She finally came to a decision. He felt her lips press against his. His mouth stayed closed. His breath hitched and his hands fisted at his sides. His instincts finally took hold of him, shaking his fear away. _Oh!_ _That's it then... that's what they wanted was it?_ His fists unfurled and he placed them on where he thought her waist would be. He growled. He was the predator now, the wolf, she a bright eyed doe. Leaning down, he opened his mouth to her, allowing her entry. He greedily returned her kiss, diving his tongue into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. He was out of practice, that much was true, but that didn't mean he didn't know what to do... She pulled away and sighed. His lips tried chasing after her. He heard a deep moan. _Who was that? Was that him?_

He opened his eyes. Too late. She'd gone, slipped away from him. Leaving as quickly as she'd arrived, opening the door and leaving him in the semi darkness. He finally gathered himself, shaking the haze of lust from his head. He scrambled out and into the corridor, turning his head left and right. _Where the hell was she?_ He heard giggles, and caught a glimpse of red hair before she vanished around a corner. 

He walked back towards the control room in a daze. His brain was fogged up with _her_. Her hands on his face, her smell, the feathery touch of her breath, the glorious feel of her lips on his. _God!_ Her taste! He didn't notice the stares or hear the snickers he garnered as he passed others on his journey.

Back in the control room again, he sat at his desk and shakily lit a cigarette.

"Sir...? _Sir!_ "

He peered up. _Were they talking to him?_

"Um... Sir?" one of his juniors asked again.

"Yes? What is it?" he snapped angrily. Annoyed that he was pulled out of his oh so pleasant, but concerning, daydreaming. 

"Er... You've a little... Um... _Something_...? On your cheeks..." their voice trailed off.

He touched his cheek. His finger came back red. _Lipstick!!_ He felt his face flame. His cigarette dropped from his fingers. He stood up so fast that he knocked his ashtray over, sending its contents flying all over his desk.

He fled the room. Rushing out, running all the way to the nearest men's room. He stared at his face in the mirror, sucking in a breath. Lipstick kisses were on each of his cheeks and his lips were smothered in the red stuff as well.

_Shit!!! That bloody woman!  
_


	2. The Slide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret slide with a hidden message...

He needed some notes typed up for a lecture he was giving to some students. He'd put in a written request to the typing pool that morning, giving himself a good three weeks to spare. Hopefully those three weeks would be enough to get it done on time.

He'd received a reply back in his pigeon hole the very next day. With a draft typed copy of the handwritten notes he'd supplied. _That was bloody quick!_ he thought. Usually he had to nag and shout at that silly bunch of cackling old hens to get anything done. He knew they hated him. Had taken umbrage at his need for perfection and his temper if they didn't provide him with such. Usually it would take weeks of back and forths for him to be satisfied. Hence his early submission to them.

This first draft pleasantly surprised him though. They'd actually followed his rough notes. Only making changes to correct his grammar and spelling when necessary, not that there were many such instances to correct. Plus, there were handwritten queries where they'd actually asked for clarification! _Huh! This was most definitely an improvement!_ _Someone new maybe?_ he pondered. _Someone he hadn't pissed off...yet?_ Not that there was anything wrong with expecting perfection in his not so humble opinion. He scribbled his additions and corrections onto the drafted typing and sent it back.

-

Draft number two was waiting for him the very next morning. _What?_ He stood in the corridor, in front of the row of pigeon holes, and ran his eyes over the typing. He couldn't help but smile as he read. _It was perfect!_ He saw a bright flash and heard a giggle. He looked up sharply at where he thought the flash and noise had originated. Catching another brief glimpse of THAT red hair, as whoever it was darted away around the corner. Away from him. AGAIN! He ran after them. An empty corridor full of office doors confronted him. He frowned, his brows furrowed and his lips thinned as he squeezed them together. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. _What the bloodyhell??!!_

He walked back to his office, his deeply furrowed brow and heavy footfalls kept others far out of his way.

Back at his desk, he triple checked the typing, then wrote a note upon it asking for fifty copies to be made. He also added a set of negatives into the internal envelope, ones that he required to be made into projector photo slides for his presentation.

The copies and slides were waiting for him in his pigeon hole the next morning. He didn't risk standing around there this time, but hastily took them back to his office to peruse in private. He tipped the slides out on his desk. _What was this?_ His eyes frowned as he noticed that there was an extra slide. Thirty-one instead of the thirty he'd requested. He held them up to the light, checking each one in turn. He gasped as he came across the imposter. He squinted his eyes, there was writing, but it was too small to make out.

He rose sharply, grabbing a carousel from the shelving behind him. _Bugger!_ The projector was missing. He'd loaned it out and the useless idiot hadn't returned it yet. He grabbed the carousel and that bloody slide, and rushed off to the nearest lecture hall. He plugged the projector in, switched the lights off and dropped the rogue slide in. Turning the lens until it focused on the large screen.

There he was. Standing in the corridor, outside his pigeon hole, the day before. Smiling the widest of smiles. _Fuck!_

Now he could actually see the words he'd noticed while holding it up earlier. He read them out.

**You are truly beautiful when you smile, Anatoly!**

He sucked in a breath. Switching the projector off quickly, he pocketed the slide and made his way back to his office. Walking slowly, pondering the message. Upon returning, he slumped into his chair and removed the slide, holding it in his hand in front of him. _Beautiful?_ He'd never even been called handsome before. _Was I really? No. Don't be ridiculous! This person must be absolutely delusional! Mustn't they?_

He held the slide out over his waste bin, but something stopped him. Held him back. He closed his fist around it, shutting his eyes tightly and sighing. He opened a desk drawer and placed the slide in there instead, for safekeeping.


	3. The Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was holding a perfect red rose up to her beautiful nose. She paused as her eyes closed, breathing deeply of it's heady scent.

He saw her walking along the corridor. Drifting directly towards him. He stopped. His feet turned to lead as she slowly approached. He stared, completely frozen. Only his eyes moved, they watched her intently. Tracking her every movement as she leisurely walked along the corridor, unhurriedly drawing herself closer towards him. 

His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. His gaze was drawn to her, glued to her, dragged along by her.

She was holding a perfect red rose up to her beautiful nose. She paused as her eyes closed, breathing deeply of it's heady scent.

_Jealous!_ A voice whispered to him. 

_Yes dammit! He_ freely admitted it. In fact, he was jealous twice over: jealous of whichever bloody bastarding bastard had given her the rose - it meant he had competition; and jealous of the rose itself - he desperately wanted to be held and admired by her like that! 

Since their kiss in the cupboard, two things had happened. Firstly he'd been teased mercilessly about being caught covered in lipstick - but he'd quashed that hilarity at his expense like someone would crush an annoying bug. Remorselessly grinding it into the dirt with his strong heel. Secondly, he'd not been able to get that kiss out of his head. The thought of it sprang up, tapping him on the shoulder at the most inopportune moments. For example, in the latest board meeting, causing him to miss the question asked of him! It also plagued his dreams at night. Causing him to take himself in hand while lying in his bed late at night.

She'd not seen him yet. Her focus was fixed on that lucky damned rose. He spotted the exact moment that she did notice him though.

She raised her eyes up from her flower and caught his eyes. She stopped in her tracks. Her mouth transformed into a perfect 'o'. 

They stood there for god knows how long. Just standing and staring. Two people caught up in each other, each trapped in the snare of the other's gaze. 

The spell was broken by one of his juniors, they ran at him from behind, shouting his name.

"Comrade Dyatlov! _Sir!_ "

The idiot man stood in front of him, blocking his view of her.

"Sir, I wonder if I could speak to you about something?"

His eyes flicked over to the annoyance, acknowledging his presence. Then flitted back to where _she_ had been. She'd gone. Vanished! His brow furrowed. 

"What! What is so urgent that you have to interrupt me?" he spat. His eyes blazed and he bared his teeth.

"Errr… but you were just standing there…?"

"What I do is none of your damned business. Now I'll ask you again. What is so urgent?" he shouted. Leaning towards the man and making him flinch backwards.

"Um… the lecture you're giving… I was wondering if I could see the handouts early as I'm writing my thesis on the same subject?"

The stare that Anatoly gave the poor man would have withered the hardest metal into mere rust particles in microseconds. 

"Er… I'll come and find you later shall I?" 

His victim fled back the way he had come. Leaving Anatoly Dyatlov stood alone in the corridor. Staring down it's emptiness at absolutely nothing.

-

The scene played on his mind all day. Taunting him. Telling him that he'd never be good enough for her anyway. He'd finally managed to get a decent glimpse of her and she was beautiful. Stunning. _What would she want with me when she could so obviously have anyone she bloodywell wanted?_

His temper was the foulest it had ever been. He flung obscenities left, right and centre at anyone who he thought had even so much as _breathed_ wrongly near him. Growling and snarling at all and sundry like the angriest, meanest guard dog.

-

He stomped back to his office after a long day in the control room. Slamming the door and throwing himself into his chair. It was only then that he noticed it. 

It was left on his desk. A perfect red rose. He frowned. Was this some sort of idiotic practical joke that someone was playing on him? He leaned forward and squinted closer at the beautiful flower. There was a note attached to it.

**For you, my beautiful Anatoly. I saw this and thought of you. It's perfect, just as you are.**

His laughter could be heard all the way out into the corridor outside his office. 

"He's finally cracked then," one of his juniors said to the other as they hovered outside his door. Thinking better of knocking there at that precise point in time. Opting instead to flee and maybe return later, or tomorrow even.

  
  



	4. The Coffee Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingers brushed. As she passed him his morning cup of coffee, as their morning meet-up became part of their daily routine.

He spotted her in the canteen. She was in the queue, waiting for her order. He was sitting at a table a few rows behind her, having his usual breakfast of coffee, toast and a cigarette. It's the first time he'd actually been able to get a really good look at her. Having only caught glimpses of her darting off around a corner, and a brief sight in the corridor last week, where her face was partially obscured by a rose. The rose that was now pressed between two of his heaviest text-books, so that he could preserve it forever. He'd recognise that hair colour anywhere. He sat and observed her in detail in between people walking in front of him and her, as it was the morning breakfast rush. His eyes stalked her as she took her tray and sat off over to the side. She was as alone as himself. 

He watched her attack her porridge, head down, eating quickly, downing her fruit juice in one. His eyes trailed after her as she took the tray to the cleaning station and turned, head down again, trudging past him, as she headed out, away from him. She didn't look up once, he saw no trace of a smile. She didn't see him, even though his soul cried out to her, pleading with her to 'look up, look at me, see me!'. He frowned as he stubbed his cigarette out. He was sure it was her, but that withdrawn person was most definitely not the exuberant giggly grabber he remembered from the cupboard. It wasn't the laughing minx who delighted in taking his photo two weeks ago. That person was certainly not the woman with the beaming visage, half hidden behind the reddest of roses, from just the previous week.

The next morning it's the same. A repeat performance happened the day after. He's surprised by this and also a little worried. He knew how difficult it was to be a loner. You needed a strong personality to survive that life. 

The next morning, she finally noticed him.

After collecting her order, she barely avoided colliding with another person on her right as they skirted around her and she moved away at the same time. She got spun round, and glanced up, purely my chance, her eyes fell directly into his gaze. 

Her mouth dropped open as she saw him, then her face lit up, her smile changed her completely. 

Now she was the woman he recognised!

She stood still, frozen, holding her tray, undecided on how to proceed. He noted how a blush crept up her face. He tilted his head sideways and gestured between her and the chair opposite him. He felt heat travel up his neck, so his blush probably matched hers. They were a matching pair! Her feet finally moved her. She walked over, slowly, hesitantly, and slid sideways into the seat opposite him. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear where it had escaped out from her tidy bun. He itched to be the one to do that. He moved his hands under the table and gripped his legs firmly. Pressing downwards to stop his legs from bouncing.

They sat quietly. Neither talking, not knowing what to say. Small shy smiles passed between them. He finished first but waited for her. Taking her tray with his to the cleaning station.

They parted ways at the door.

The same happened the next day.

The day after, he arrived later than he usually did as he was caught up in a lengthy telephone call to his superior. The scene he found there upon his arrival, made him stop in his tracks. He watched. And as he watched, his anger flared, the scene before him threw petrol onto his impassioned temper, raising it up to a blazing inferno. The level of his rage surprised even him, but he didn't care. He couldn't let that troll get away with this!

She was standing over to the side of the canteen entrance, head down, hands twisting in front of her, being harangued by a loud older woman who he knew to be the superintendent of the typing pool. She hated him. The feeling was mutual. He stormed towards them, fists clenched tightly by his sides. He placed himself between the two of them, facing the old baggage, his eyes blazed, his pointed index finger accused.

"Why are you speaking to my assistant like that?" he bellowed.

"Oh, good morning Comrade Dyatlov," the superintendent narrowed her eyes towards him. "I'm confused. This lazy woman is the newest member of my typing pool, not your assistant." She smirked at him, the argument was won and he was instantly dismissed in her eyes.

His eyes narrowed, his teeth ground and his temper raised itself to an all consuming wildfire.

"She's acting as my temporary assistant for my upcoming lecture," his voice stated calmly, quiet words spoken between gritted teeth. "Now run along before I take this matter to your superior!" He offered her a perfect lupine grin. His juniors would know to scuttle away now, as that particular facial expression was always a prelude to an impending explosion.

"My superior?" she answered, her brow furrowed as she thought on who he could mean.

"Yes! Your superior! Oh, wait a minute... That would be me! Now why don't you just fuck off back to whatever disgusting swamp you crawled out from, and let more important people go about their useful duties. Your behaviour here will be reported higher up, by me, personally, to the board! So I'd gather all your bloody belongings and be on the first train out of here!" He leaned forward as he spat his anger out. "Go on, _fuck off!_ " This last was shouted at full volume, physically making the woman reach out to grab the wall, before she turned tail and fled. His glare chased after her. He'd been waiting for the perfect excuse to get rid of her for _years_.

"Thank you," A small voice and a hand placed on his arm pulled him out of his anger, dousing the flames instantly.

He shrugged and turned to walk off to order his usual breakfast, adding hers to the order automatically.

He took the tray, minus his coffee as they were fiddling with the wretched machine. She hovered there, waiting to fetch it for him. When they'd finished ministering to the coffee maker, she went to sit in her usual place, opposite him. She reached across, passing the cup and saucer over the table towards him. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her. He lingered longer than he should have. The coffee clutched, mid air, between them. Their gaze was held as tightly as the saucer. He finally blinked, his eyelids fluttering and the sublime spell was broken. She slid her fingers against his and away, setting her hands flat on the table top, sending him her widest of smiles. He placed his coffee down on the table, his hands shaking, causing some liquid to spill into the saucer and onto his hand. She offered him a serviette. Another excuse to brush fingers. Another excuse to touch, to feel. 

She beamed at him and he uttered a quiet 'thank you'.

She looked down, playing with her porridge, stirring it round the bowl with her spoon. She finally laid the spoon down. Clasping her hands tightly together, she took a deep breath before speaking.

"Do you really want my help? I mean the assistant bit, or was it just an excuse to get rid of _her_?" she whispered.

"Yes. I do. Need your help, that is. I need you to type some correspondence for me. As perfectly as before. I mean, I'm assuming that was you, right?" 

She nodded.

"Humph. I thought as much! Too new to be scared of that trollop, and not yet set in the rest of their vicious ways!" he offered her a smirk. "And also some publications of mine need typing up before publishing." he waved his hand dismissively.

"I'll still have to share the office with those awful idiots, while helping you," she frowned and scrunched her nose.

He shrugged. "You'll manage. Any problems, come and see me." There's not much else he can offer her. He'd been at the very bottom of the pile before and knew exactly how difficult it was. She needed to pull herself upwards, just like he had. But he was unsure how to vocalise this to her. Or how to vocalise anything to her for that matter. She had him tongue tied and lost for words for the first time ever. Work was a safe enough subject. In the cupboard, in the dark, he had felt free to do as his base instincts told him. But here, out in the open, in the bright daylight where everyone could see, he held himself back. Reserved, unsure. So, instead, he resorted to non verbal communication to show his feelings.

Fingers brushed. As she passed him his morning cup of coffee, as their morning meet-up became part of their daily routine. Their hands reached for each other as they passed in corridors. Tender touches as paperwork was passed between them. 

Sweet-tempered strokes and prolonged, loaded glances passed between the two. Becoming ever more daring as the days passed.

Their routine changed. Mornings were filled with breakfast. Accompanied by longing, lingering looks over his coffee cup, barely there caressing of fingers, never daring anything else when anyone could be watching.

The day carried on as normal. His work dictated that it should.

The late evenings were spent in his office. He loved this part of the day the best now. Hidden away from everyone, just like in the cupboard, but still light so that he could see her every reaction to his actions. He revelled in being free to explore and to be explored in return. 

They'd almost been caught once, the knock on the door and rattle of the door handle giving them just enough time to spring apart before his superior entered the office. She scurried out, and he had to endure knowing smirks.

It was difficult to keep himself from just having her there, bouncing on his lap or bending her over his desk. Both scenarios, and others, equally as delicious, had played out in his head as he lay in his bed, late at night and roared her name as he came in his hand, his other hand fisted tightly in his sweaty sheets. But he'd held back. Wanting their first time to be special and not just some quick fuck. He wanted to have the time to explore her all over, with his fingers and his tongue. He wanted her naked, her body all slick with sweat, and slick elsewhere too, here, in his bed, underneath him.

He had it planned all out. A free weekend was coming up soon. He'd invite her round to his apartment where they'd have the time to do things properly instead of rushed, stolen moments in his office.

In the meantime, his juniors shook their heads in wonder at the stranger that sat at Anatoly Dyatlov's desk in the control room. The stranger who sat there and _smiled_.


	5. The Invite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He scrunched the letter up in his fists, cursing vehemently at his bad luck.

He didn't know what to do. He had no idea. Absolutely no bloody idea! _What the bloody hell am I going to do?_ He paced. He paced in his office. He paced in the control room. He paced in his apartment late at night when he should be sleeping.

-

His free weekend was one week away. When he was going to invite her to his little home on the other side of town. He hoped it would be their weekend to spend together, however they wanted. He hoped it would go the way he desperately _wanted_ it to go. She still lived with her parents and her two older brothers, so her place was completely, most definitely _not_ an option for anything like _that_ to be happening in.

He'd told her about his plan in his office early last week. She'd been so happy that she'd peppered his face with little butterfly kisses. Plans were made and discussed.

She'd leant forward at breakfast one morning and whispered to him that she had bought some new underwear for their weekend, that she would be his special christmas present to unwrap. He'd felt his face heat and his blood rush downwards. _God!_ She'd giggled and took their tray away, swaying her hips suggestively and sending him saucy looks over her shoulder as she sashayed away. Leaving him to sit there and think boring, boring thoughts. He ran through the toughest differential equations he could think of in his head, _twice_ , to try and calm himself down. It was the first time that he'd _ever_ been late arriving at the control room for his shift.

-

Now, it seemed, fate had intervened to fuck their plans up. _Bloody typical!_ He stared at the letter in his hand. He'd been invited to go and present one of his past papers at the regional University in Kyiv. A last minute invitation to cover for someone who had dropped out. Going there would warrant an overnight stay, meaning his free weekend wouldn't be free any more. It was an extremely good conference, one that would mean his work would get wider recognition. He scrunched the letter up in his fists, cursing vehemently at his bad luck.

And to top it all off, the chief had announced that the Christmas party was to be on the Friday of that weekend! Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been a problem for him. He wasn't a fan of those damnable parties. He'd usually attend for a few hours though, to show his face and have a free drink at the higher ups expense of course. But it meant they'd have less time to themselves.

-

He resumed his pacing. Wearing a path on the rug in the small living room of his apartment. Fretting on what to do. Torn as to what to do to remedy the _mess_ of it all. 

-

He was sitting in the control room a day later, playing with his cigarette lighter and staring off into the middle distance, distracted as he always seemed to be these days. But today he was even more so. He was thinking on the problem of the lecture invitation. Trying to untangle the Gordian knot like issue of how to get out of going, but still wanting to present for the prestige of doing so. He also didn't want to let _her_ down, his beautiful rose, not after she was relying on him. Hell! _He_ was relying on him! Solutions and problems fluttered in various random paths through his brilliant mind, like a flock of pigeons disturbed by a small child running through them. 

His eyes wandered over to his two most senior underlings. They were loitering off by the side, heads together in deep discussion. _What are they up to?_

As he frowned at them, inspiration suddenly struck. An idea hit him. Hard. It smacked into his head like a ton of lead. _Maybe that would work? After all, I'd done the same for my boss when I was training._ He mentally kicked himself on the arse for not thinking of this earlier!

"You two! Come over here!" he shouted at them. They sidled over, heads down, expecting a telling off and a blast of his temper. He smiled at them, watching as their mouths dropped open. Their brows furrowed as they snuck glances at each other as they stood and waited. They shuffled their feet and waited. He laughed. Their heads snapped up, confused frowns on both their faces. _Not what you expected eh lads?_

"Don't worry, you've done nothing wrong," he narrowed his eyes. "That I know of." He took a deep breath and plunged onwards. "I've been asked to go and present a past paper next friday at the Taras Shevchenko University, in the subject matter you helped me with last year." They stared at him.

"Yes, Sir. Um… Do you… Do you need our help again, Sir?"

"Possibly… I've trained you in the subject enough, that if you don't know it by now, then you never will!"

_But would they agree to my suggestion? Probably not, but it was worth a try, wasn't it?_

"Would you like us to go in your stead, Sir?" one offered, reading his mind. At that precise moment in time, Anatoly Dyatlov was a completely confounded and confused man. _What had just happened?_ He blinked at them both. _Were they volunteering to help me?_

"Er… yes?" he answered. He mirrored their shocked confusion from earlier.

"It would be an honour to represent you there, Sir," the other said, smiling at him.

"Um… Come and find me in my office this evening after your shift and I'll go over what I've prepared so far," he fiddled with his cigarette lighter. "Thank you," he added quietly. 

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." He nodded a dismissal and they turned, to head off back to their stations.

"Er... you don't mind that you'll be missing the Christmas party?" he asked.

"No, Sir!" 

"This is more important, Sir!"

_Huh!_ he shook his head. Totally dumbstruck. Surprised that they would actually _volunteer_ for _him_. Their hated boss! He shelved that surprising thought away to contemplate later. His main problem was solved. Now it was just the dratted Christmas party to figure out.

-

There was a knock on his office door, he knew exactly who it was. He shouted out "Enter!"

There she was, the most beautiful woman. His beautiful rose. He couldn't help but smile up at her. His two underlings exchanged a knowing look.

"Ah, Miss Lebed. I'm just going over some details about an upcoming presentation. I won't be long," she returned his smile as she hovered by the door.

"I'll just wait outside Comrade Dyatlov," she started backing out.

"No, it's alright. We'll come back tomorrow," one of his juniors elbowed the other.

"Oh… yes… right! We've probably got all we need for now anyway. If we've any questions, we'll ask," he stood up and they both scuttled out, nodding at Anatoly and his 'not so secret' partner on their way out. 

"Anatoly…?" she closed and locked his office door and approached him. 

He beckoned towards her from where he sat behind his desk, his arms held out for her. She walked towards him, an eyebrow raised in query.

"Come here, and I'll tell you all about the most stressful day I've had!" he flexed the fingers of his hand, wanting her nearer.

"Oh! My poor love! Tell me all about it!" she settled herself into her usual spot, sideways on his lap. He sighed as she ran her hands through his hair, rubbing his temples, just as he loved her doing. He melted under her touch, closing his eyes, making little sighs as she rubbed his tension away. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her, offering her a lopsided grin, then drew her in for a kiss. One of the languorous, delicious, deliberately unhurried ones that he knew she loved. 

"Tell me again all about your special underwear," he asked as he kissed a slow trail along her jawline to the spot on her neck that always made her moan so beautifully.

"Oh? Your special christmas present?"

He hummed and nodded.

"Well now… I think you should concentrate on what I'm wearing today," she said, "or maybe what I'm _not_ wearing?" she whispered.

"Oh?"

She took his hand and placed it on her knee, moving it up her thigh, then letting him take over. He ran his hand up, up higher still, trailing his fingers up her soft flesh until he felt… _her_ … 

" _Oh!_ "

His fingers gently explored, moving upwards until he found that special place that made her moan and squirm in his lap. Made her utter his name in the most delicious way - high pitched, all drawn out and breathless. He moved his fingers as she'd taught him to, just so. He pulled her face towards him with his other hand, kissing her deeply, swallowing her sighs, whimpers and moans. He could feel her tensing, so he broke away from their kiss, whispering into her ear instead.

"Come for me Rozaliya. I want to feel your peak, my beautiful rose," 

She muffled her cries into his shoulder. Finally lifting her face up, watching avidly as he licked his glistening fingers clean. She cuddled with him for a few minutes, waiting for her breath to calm, then stood, rearranging her clothing and hair. She sighed, not wanting to leave, but knowing they had to. It was getting late. He picked her coat up off the floor where she'd dropped it, holding it open for her to put on. 

-

They exited the building and he walked her back to town. They eventually parted ways, his apartment lay in the opposite direction from her family's one. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, my beautiful rose," he said as he took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"Yes, Anatoly. Until tomorrow," she placed a hand on his cheek and turned to walk away.

He watched her for a while, waited until she turned at the end of the path and waved at him, as she always did. He raised a hand in reply and trudged back to his empty apartment. 

He needed to see a locksmith tomorrow, and see about getting another set of keys cut.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there was only one chair...
> 
> Bearing in mind that I'm basing part of this on the fact that the consultants at work regularly send their minions to present research/scientific papers for them at conferences. I've no idea if it works/worked the same way back then and in Soviet Russia. But this is 'Fanfiction Land', so what the heck!
> 
> Lebed = swan. (Non gendered surname)  
> Rozaliya = beautiful rose, pet name = Roza or Rozochka


	6. The Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was she to him? What was he to her? 

He watched her and pondered. 

He was still unsure of what to call her. His girlfriend? Well both those things were true. But it sounded so damn silly at their age. They weren't in school anymore, he wasn't a bloody teenager any more! Lady friend? Well he wasn't so certain of that either. Even though, again, both those words applied to her. But then the meaning, as a whole, didn't really appeal to him. He frowned. It sounded even worse than _girlfriend_!

She was a friend, that much was true. He'd found himself opening up and talking to her about things he'd never ever spoken to _anyone_ about before. Feelings. Emotions. His fears and worries. Talking to her about these last two had helped him smooth them away, whereas before, he bottled them up and let them fester and sour his mood. She soothed his anxieties away with her wondrous touches. He'd forever delight in how she'd spend a whole evening just exploring his hand, stroking and playing with each finger in turn, kissing his knuckles tenderly. And, dear lord, when she ran her fingers through his hair! He swore that he heard himself purr like a cat when she did that! No, she wasn't just some girl or lady, she was… _W_ _ _hat_ was she to him? What was he to her? _

They had an understanding, that was true enough. They took breakfast together most mornings, when he had time, which he seemed to increasingly find these days. They'd kissed in his office so many times since the cupboard. He'd walked her home, back to the town where they lived on opposite sides of. Walking in the dark wasn't the same as walking to work in the daylight. He loved that walk, watching the children and keeping an eye out for any birds or animals from the nearby forest he could spot along the way. He was looking forward to walking to work with her, in the morning, pointing out everything to her along the way.

They'd not slept with each other yet. Though they'd gotten as intimate as they could be in his small office with only one chair, without actually making love. She'd wanted to, but he'd said no. He wanted to do this properly for their first time, he respected her too much not to. So they couldn't, technically, be called lovers. Yet... If all went to plan, then that would change, very soon.

He mulled over his puzzle as she slowly threaded herself through the heaving room towards him.

He was standing off to the side. Observing both her and the room. His third glass of beer was held in one hand, dutch courage. He downed it, placing the glass down on the table behind him. A cigarette was in his other hand. He took a last long drag and stubbed it out.

He watched as she neared him, headed towards him through the crowded space. A beautiful bright beacon. Their eyes locked and she smiled widely at him. His mouth lifted up at one side in reply. He didn't think his smile was anything special. But it was all he had, and she didn't seem to mind.

She had to negotiate couples dancing and avoid being grabbed at by other men. He frowned at this, leaning forward, ready to intervene if necessary. But she laughed and danced out of their grasp easily. 

She was finally there, standing in front of him. Her right hand reached across, bridging the gap between them, grasping his hand in hers. He watched her as she looked down at their intertwined hands. He didn't pull away. Even though every instinct told him to do just that. Well, every instinct bar one. The same one that had his other hand, his right one, reach across and take her left one and mirror the connection of their other two hands. 

They stood there, just so, for what seemed an eternity. Holding hands and exchanging increasingly heated looks. His breath hitched as she moved, gradually getting closer to him, closing the gap between them. She moved their hands so that they were pulled upwards from their sides, and were placed just above her breasts, still between them, still held together. She placed delicate whispered kisses onto his knuckles. His lips parted and he released a slow breath as he watched her. She placed a more lingering, lengthy kiss to his hand, holding it up to her lips and keeping it there. He watched her eyes close as she rubbed her cheek against the same hand. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him again. She was asking him for something, pleading with him. He was an intelligent man, that was well known, but right now, he felt like the dumbest nincompoop to have ever existed! _What did she want?_ She giggled and looked over her shoulder, away to the side. He followed her gaze, it led to where someone had pinned a large sprig of mistletoe above a doorway. _Oh! Ok? Really?_

He glanced around the room nervously, no one was looking at them, everyone else was busily enjoying the alcohol, the music and each other. He licked his lips, his eyes darted back to hers. He didn't move. Couldn't move. He daren't move. So she moved for the both of them. She dropped one of his hands and led him by the other. He resisted. Not wanting to put their, 'whatever it was' relationship, on public display. She tugged his hand again, tilting her head sideways, sending him another smile. His smile wavered, his eyes darted around the room again. _I'll be seen!_ his breathing sped up. She pulled at his hand again. This time he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them again and took one step, then another. _Be brave, man!_ He followed along, a slightly reluctant lamb to the slaughter. His eyes flicked around as they approached the doorway. No one was watching. She positioned them underneath the mistletoe. Releasing his hand and standing in front of him. She looked upwards, at the sprig, then looked down, catching his gaze. She reached over and cupped his face with both hands. 

He closed his eyes and sighed into her touch. She pulled him downwards. Closer... Closer... Drawing him nearer to her lips. The same lips that he could spend days staring at, but now he daren't open his eyes. 

He felt her breath feather against him, felt her lips brush against his. Just like that time in the cupboard, their first kiss. He remembered back. Remembered how that was his cue back then and how it was again, now. He opened his mouth to her, gently kissing her back. A slow, unguarded show of affection. His hands went to her waist and pulled her closer as he deepened their kiss. Her hands went up and around his neck. They finally pulled apart, coming up for air. He opened his eyes to see her standing there in front of him, smiling, pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth. A relieved chuckle escaped his lips. She reached for his hand again and led him off to get some drinks. They found a quiet corner to sit in. Hands held between them, heads leaning in towards each other. Gentle words and shy touches passed between them. 

He was sure that most people had guessed what was going on between them by now anyway. He'd been reluctant to let anyone see her with him, but now, he realised that he didn't care. As that knowledge hit him, overpowering him with its strength, he processed his feelings for her. He understood what he wanted now, he found that he wasn't scared, shocked or surprised by how quickly these warm, beautiful feelings had nestled into his heart. Not when he saw how she looked at him, her eyes full of love. He knew now, that he just wanted to be free to love and be loved in return. 

-

They waited until the chief had said his usual speech, then they slipped away. He carried two bags on this walk back to his apartment this time. His briefcase, and her overnight bag, slung over his shoulder.

-

Dinner, music, everything they'd planned was forgotten. They'd barely made it into his flat before he pounced on her, pinning her to the wall, hands on either side of her head. 

"Bedroom...?" she asked breathily as he nibbled at her earlobe.

He took her hand and led the way. He threw his jacket and tie off to the side and she slid her coat off, kicking her shoes away. She approached him, undoing his shirt buttons, slipping it off, down over his arms and running her fingers through his chest hair. _What a hairy bear of a man!_ she thought. She ran a finger around one of his nipples, looking up as he drew a breath in sharply. 

She turned, moving her hair to the side as he pulled the zip of her dress down, pushing it off, down her shoulders to pool at her feet. She stepped over it and took his hand, leading him to the bed where she pulled him down to sit on the edge. Their lips and tongues joined in another heated kiss. He pulled back suddenly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing... nothing's wrong. I just need to check to ask you, before I can't stop myself…I just want to ask if you're sure? I mean… it's been a while for me… I'm not…I'm a little rusty...So…Are you certain you want this to happen...? For us to be lovers...?" his voice trailed off, leaving just their heavy breaths between them.

"Silly man!" she reached a hand up to cup his face. "Yes! I've been certain since the very first day I saw you, since I dragged you into that cleaning cupboard and hoped you'd kiss me back," Her reply was all he needed. He laughed to cover up the incredulity he felt that she was real, that this was in fact _all_ real.

"Does that mean that I can unwrap my present now?" he asked, his voice deep and husky, his eyes dark. 

She nodded, whispering the sweetest 'yes' he'd ever heard. His lips devoured hers as he reached around her to undo her bra. He trailed his mouth downwards, catching one nipple with his lips, causing her to moan and grip his shoulders. He swapped his attention to her other breast, lavishing similar treatment there, releasing that nipple with a pop from his lips. He moved so that he was kneeling in front of her. He tugged at her knickers, she lifted her bottom in answer and he slid the impediments to his goal down her legs and off. Flinging them dramatically over his shoulder. She giggled at him.

He placed his hands on her knees and spread her legs, running his hands up her thighs until he brushed at where he wanted to be. He moved himself forwards, placing himself further forwards, further in-between her legs, pushing her back until she was lying down. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching him as he kissed a trail along her thigh, up towards her core. He placed his hands on her thighs, spreading her open before him, he wanted to see her. He leaned forwards and licked her, swirling his tongue around where only his fingers had been before. Her elbows gave way and her head plopped down onto the bed. He mimicked, with his tongue, what he'd done before with his fingers, feeling her twitch as he brought her to a glorious, screaming peak. He lapped at her one last time. She shrieked and tried batting him away.

"What?" he asked as she squirmed.

"Your mustache… it's… it's so tickly!" 

He grinned and licked her again, causing her to squeak and buck into him. He pulled away and stood. 

"Move up the bed my beautiful Roza," he asked her as he undid his belt and removed his remaining clothes. Pulling a small packet from his pocket before dropping his trousers to the floor. His eyes watched her as she wriggled backwards, watching as her breasts bounced deliciously. Her eyes watched him as he freed himself from the confines of his trousers and rolled a condom onto himself.

He crawled back between her legs, and kissed a trail up her, she sucked her tummy in as he deliberately rubbed his mustache on her.

"Wicked man!" she swatted at him.

He kissed her again, settling against her. She wrapped her legs up around his waist, her hands around his back, trying to pull him closer. He ground himself into her, pulling a deep moan from her. He reached a hand between them and used his fingers to pull another glorious peak from her. 

She pulled at him, trying to bring him closer, bucking up towards him.

"Please…"

"What is it? Tell me what you want," he teased her, kissing her, rubbing himself against her.

"Please… I want you…!" She opened her eyes, they were so dark with lust, mirroring his.

He groaned loudly as he pushed inside her, feeling the aftermath of her peak flutter around him. He felt absolute bliss as he was finally where he'd only dreamt of being these past few weeks, ever since that heady kiss in the cleaning cupboard. It didn't take long for his release to follow hers, for him to be moaning her name aloud. 

She held him closely, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. They stayed there, each holding onto the other tightly. Not letting go. Neither wanting to break the spell. He finally rolled over, onto his back when he slid out from her. She sat up and wobbled off to the bathroom, wobbling back to plop herself next to him, cuddling into his warm body as he held the sheets he'd gotten under open for her.

She sighed happily as his arms enveloped her. Nuzzling into him, rubbing her cheeks with his fluffy chest hair. He was snoring within minutes as she ran her fingers through the hair there, gently lulling him to sleep. She yawned and watched him for a while. His face at rest was so beautiful, even more so than usual, as it was divest of any frowns or worries. Her eyes finally fluttered closed and she joined him in sleep.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anatoly Dyatlov says practice safe sex. We'll have no containment breaches here!


End file.
